Someone make it stop.
So my life fucking sucks this week.
To update the professor incident, I went to talk to him after my classes on Thursday. Unfortunately he was in a meeting with his "History Club" (probably more like "The Club of Racism and White Privilege and haha aren't we so much better than those drunk Indians"), and I waffled in the hallway for about five minutes as to whether or not I should interrupt his meeting (to talk to him privately or just tell him in front of everyone that he was racist), or wait for it to be over. In the end I just left because I wanted to go home, and I'd decided I'd try talking to him this upcoming Tuesday when I go back to school.
I'm also in the process of writing a formal complaint I can submit to the dean or whoever's in charge.
But, all that aside. . .
I go outside to find a note on my windshield. Said note says, "Oh my gosh I am so sorry. I was driving my husband's big ol' truck and I hit your front bumper."
The fates are completely against me this week. I'm not sure what I did to piss them off, but it must've been bad.
The girl who hit me said she was more than willing to pay for any damages. And that she wanted to pay with cash because she doesn't want to go through her insurance. So, we went around to three different body shops to get estimates. Then the car started making this horrible noise like it was about to die right there, so we took it to the garage.
Turns out the impact of her big ol' truck totally fucked up the struts, and my wheel's bent at a funny angle and it's just a big fucking mess.
So in total it was going to cost this girl around $3,000 dollars to repair the damage. I called her to let her know, gave all the info, and we get her dad calling us back.
Who. is. completely. irate. Excusing us of lying and saying that we're trying to hose them out of money. Which is completely ridiculous because my car is a 12 yr old hand-me-down with hail damage and a cracked windshield, and if I didn't care to fix it up before then why the hell would I try scheming to do it now?
It's just unbelievable that I was sitting completely UNAWARE in a classroom, while some girl was ramming my car with her husband's ridiculously huge truck (thank you America for big stupid fucking trucks), and now I'm the one having to run around and defend myself from ignorant fathers who haven't even seen the fucking damage.
Well he called back with a completely different attitude. He must have spoken to the mechanic, and apparently campus police had been called and taken pictures of my car at the scene of the crime. No one told me about this, but thank god they got evidence.
I'm not sure what's going to happen now because she's got her dad doing her business but he doesn't even know what the hell's going on. We called her the day it happened and she told us she'd have to call us back because her husband had all their insurance information (what is that even?). Now her dad is telling us he doesn't know what their insurance is, and why the hell isn't her husband involved if he's the only one with the fucking information?
It's just shady business all around. And I'm exhausted and beaten down and stick a fork in me I'm done. This week, universe, you have won.
To update the professor incident, I went to talk to him after my classes on Thursday. Unfortunately he was in a meeting with his "History Club" (probably more like "The Club of Racism and White Privilege and haha aren't we so much better than those drunk Indians"), and I waffled in the hallway for about five minutes as to whether or not I should interrupt his meeting (to talk to him privately or just tell him in front of everyone that he was racist), or wait for it to be over. In the end I just left because I wanted to go home, and I'd decided I'd try talking to him this upcoming Tuesday when I go back to school.
I'm also in the process of writing a formal complaint I can submit to the dean or whoever's in charge.
But, all that aside. . .
I go outside to find a note on my windshield. Said note says, "Oh my gosh I am so sorry. I was driving my husband's big ol' truck and I hit your front bumper."
The fates are completely against me this week. I'm not sure what I did to piss them off, but it must've been bad.
The girl who hit me said she was more than willing to pay for any damages. And that she wanted to pay with cash because she doesn't want to go through her insurance. So, we went around to three different body shops to get estimates. Then the car started making this horrible noise like it was about to die right there, so we took it to the garage.
Turns out the impact of her big ol' truck totally fucked up the struts, and my wheel's bent at a funny angle and it's just a big fucking mess.
So in total it was going to cost this girl around $3,000 dollars to repair the damage. I called her to let her know, gave all the info, and we get her dad calling us back.
Who. is. completely. irate. Excusing us of lying and saying that we're trying to hose them out of money. Which is completely ridiculous because my car is a 12 yr old hand-me-down with hail damage and a cracked windshield, and if I didn't care to fix it up before then why the hell would I try scheming to do it now?
It's just unbelievable that I was sitting completely UNAWARE in a classroom, while some girl was ramming my car with her husband's ridiculously huge truck (thank you America for big stupid fucking trucks), and now I'm the one having to run around and defend myself from ignorant fathers who haven't even seen the fucking damage.
Well he called back with a completely different attitude. He must have spoken to the mechanic, and apparently campus police had been called and taken pictures of my car at the scene of the crime. No one told me about this, but thank god they got evidence.
I'm not sure what's going to happen now because she's got her dad doing her business but he doesn't even know what the hell's going on. We called her the day it happened and she told us she'd have to call us back because her husband had all their insurance information (what is that even?). Now her dad is telling us he doesn't know what their insurance is, and why the hell isn't her husband involved if he's the only one with the fucking information?
It's just shady business all around. And I'm exhausted and beaten down and stick a fork in me I'm done. This week, universe, you have won.